Shola, Shoes and Shame

I live in Ibadan with my grandmother . i’ve always lived here amongst the old houses,the rusty roads and seedy lifestyle.everyday as i walk to the girl’s comprehensive school two miles from home, i take my time to enjoy the ancient views anew, and also while coming back with my chirpy friends ,i recede into my mind and find solace in the views that was how normal my life was until ayinla came shoes in a box. not that nobody else wears shoes ,but the ones he made for me were special and elegant. so i couldn’t help but fall in love with him. at sixteen i’d matured properly so i decided to give myself to him. it was unlike me, ;level headed,calm rational. i became defiant and rougish. until iya heard of it. she called me to her room ……

‘Aduke mi ‘ she said softly. She asked me to sit on one of the old upholstery chairs in her large room. I’ve never had a relationship talk with Grandmother so it felt akward doing it today.

She club cleared her throat before reminding me that my parents were dead,she instructed me on the good values of a woman,she talked and talked till eventually i finally left her room befuddled.

I walked back to the bukateria owned by grandmother but managed by aunty ronke, i sat down in the rowdy kitchen where women were rigorously working;pounding boiled yam,turning cassava flakes using tall ladles,chopping vegetables, picking rice or beans,stewing huge meats,and chattering loudly.

I receded into my mind and let my mind wander back to the day ayinla came.

I’d been serving a customer when he’d breezed in carrying a leather bag . i’d impulsively rushed to him before thinking about it.

‘Ki le fe sah’ I asked in yoruba, batting my elegant lashes.                 ‘I wo na ni mo wa wa’ you are the one i’m looking for. When he said that i knew i was taken. ‘Come and sit ‘ i said offering him a seat………

2 thoughts on “Shola, Shoes and Shame” by Nelson c.j (@Chetty)

  1. The piece has punctuation issues. You also started some names with small letters and you equally assumed that your audience understands Yoruba.

    Please note that; What makes you a writer is the ability to deliver an idea (almost) perfectly. Having the idea itself, only shows that you are human. Be error conscious.

    The story – or what I derived from it – was not very appealing too.

    Keep writing though. Hoping to read more from you.

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